


Animal Control

by Laylah, whatsubtext



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Community: kinked, Dystopia, Exploitation, Kemonomimi, M/M, Objectification, Ownership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-23
Updated: 2010-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsubtext/pseuds/whatsubtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke is a stray, and has always been pretty certain he didn't need a human <i>or</i> a pack of other dogs to look out for him. But when he takes too many risks in pursuit of a good time and lands himself in the pound, that choice -- and a lot of others -- gets taken away from him.</p><p>Includes <b>not worksafe</b> illustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Animal Control

**Author's Note:**

> For Dreamwidth's kinked big bang community; written by Laylah and illustrated by whatsubtext.
> 
> Thank you to all of the fabulous alpha readers who cheered this on during the rough draft process. ♥

The big advertising display across the street from the train station -- one of the really fancy ones, high-resolution TV, bigger and brighter than real life -- is playing one of Risette's new specials. It's not clear at first what she's advertising, but does it really matter? She's _Risette_ , young and cheerful and energetic, her ears pricked up with enthusiasm and her tail wagging. Her collar-tag catches the light and sparkles, never quite in focus enough to read. The little bikini she wears covers just enough of her to be legal, but when she turns her back it looks like the bottom piece dips down below her tail instead of having a cut-out for it. It would come off so easily at the first tug.

Yosuke has to look away before he thinks about it too much. How ridiculous would he feel if he got himself worked up enough over an idol that he couldn't keep his cool? Risette is so out of his league it's not even worth wishing for. Even the ordinary bitches he knows tend to go for human guys when they just want to mess around -- and like hell _that's_ fair, because how often do human girls want to play around with dogs?

Still, that's just in the city; he's heard that out in the little towns there's less of that going on. One of the guys in the stray pack he's been kind of running with -- _kind_ of running with, okay, because they're not that cool and it's not like he likes the way they treat him -- was totally bragging last week about the time he got out to the countryside, stowing away in a truck. There's no market out there for pills and shots, apparently, so countryside bitches can't just keep putting off their season forever the way the ones in Yosuke's sort-of pack do. _You gotta be real careful not to get picked up and sent off to the pound_ , Kaidoh told the rest of them, smirking -- like they were all supposed to know he was too clever for that -- _but it is_ so _worth it._

Kaidoh might have the rest of the pack convinced he's the only dog smart enough to travel on his own, but Yosuke doesn't buy that for a second. He can do it just fine, and he's not even going to spend the trip hunched up in the back of a cabbage truck, either.

The thing is, if you cover up but you don't make a big deal of it, humans don't look all that close. Everyone's faces are more or less the same, and Yosuke's lucky enough that he doesn't have obvious, dark fur or markings on his neck or anything. With long sleeves and a hood, and pants that are baggy enough to hide the shape of his tail, he can go in human places without getting himself in trouble. There's not much he can do about his scent, but human noses don't work, so it doesn't seem to matter. He's tried it a couple of times, going in human-only places and walking around, and he hasn't gotten caught yet. So he's pretty sure he can manage this train thing.

He tugs his hood forward a little more and pulls his sleeves down so his paws are less obvious. There's a group of girls buying tickets out of the machine in the station, and Yosuke waits for them to get done before he tries to get one of his own -- humans make so much stuff that takes tricky coordination to use. A clever dog _can_ do it, but it takes a lot of patience and it's never easy the way it looks like it is when you've got hands.

Still, he manages. He's got one of the unregistered cash cards the pack passes around, so he can put that in the machine instead of trying to handle a bunch of paper money, and that makes it a lot easier. He picks a stop that's pretty far out on the line, not all the way at the end but close. Inaba, it's called. It's one of the stops with the really small dots on the line, so probably that means there's not much to the town.

The machine spits out his ticket and the card, and Yosuke does his best not to fumble with them when he picks them up. The part that comes next is trickier, because there's a human involved. Yosuke gets his ticket ready in advance, bracing it carefully between the digits of one paw, and tries to look like he's not nervous when he walks up to the turnstile.

He gives the ticket to the human working the turnstile, trying not to let his paw show past the end of his sleeve. Turns out he doesn't need to worry about that bit at all -- the ticket-taker barely looks at _him_ , just the ticket itself. "Inaba," she says. "That's such a pretty little town. What takes you out there?"

"Ah -- f-family," Yosuke says. Do they ask everyone? Should he have a specific answer?

The ticket-taker looks up at him and smiles. "Have a pleasant trip," she says as she hands his ticket back.

"Thank you," Yosuke says, and looks down so he can take the ticket on the first try and not touch her by accident.

He feels so conspicuous, waiting on the train platform. Maybe the produce truck _would_ have been an easier way to travel. He keeps thinking that any minute someone will catch on and call animal control, and he'll have to run for it.

Nothing happens, though. Maybe it really is like the strays tell each other -- humans don't care that much if you keep your head down, and there really aren't that many animal control officers out there. The odds of avoiding them are pretty good, as long as you have enough sense not to try any dominance stunts around them -- or with them.

When the train pulls up, the group of girls he'd been watching earlier -- can you still call them a pack if they're human? -- gets on at the other end of the car from Yosuke. He wonders, a little, if messing around with one of them would be any fun. The bitches he knows all seem to think human guys are so exciting -- would that work the other way around?

One of the girls shrieks with laughter, and Yosuke's ears flatten under his hood. He doesn't want to know that badly. He sinks down in his seat a little, shifting to try to find a position that won't crush his tail uncomfortably.

The train rolls out of the station, past the advertising display one more time. Yosuke watches Risette on the screen, bounding happily through a spray of water. Damp, her fur darkens a little, comes closer to matching the cascade of brown hair that tumbles loose over her shoulders. Supposedly, idols are all spayed, to keep them from having days when they can't perform or wrecking their careers with unplanned puppies. It's hard to believe, though, when everything Risette does looks like an invitation to try to catch her.

He wasn't going to think about that, Yosuke reminds himself. He's headed out of the city, away from the stray pack and all the crap they expect him to put up with. He's off to prove himself.

Riding on a train is actually pretty cool, once they get going. Yosuke's been on subway cars before and he sort of thought this would be the same -- and it's based on the same thing, okay, but it's a lot more exciting when he can see the scenery go by. Yosuke tries not to act too excited, watching out the window as they leave the city. The buildings thin out, and then they start to pass through fields, wide open spaces like nothing back home. Yosuke's tail keeps wanting to wag, and he tries to sit on it more thoroughly to make it stop that.

The pack of girls leave the third time the train stops. It's pretty quiet in the car without them, but Yosuke can't say he minds. He doesn't have to worry about hiding when he's the only one in the car.

By the time he gets to Inaba, the sun's starting to go down. In the city that would have meant lots of lights going on all over the place, but here there are barely any -- just the little ones inside people's windows. And the smells! Every breath Yosuke takes fills his throat with things he's never smelled before. He wanders around the edges of the town, climbs up a hill to a little playground where he can smell a whole tangle of bright green smells along with the familiar scent of human children. Following his nose back into town brings him to a little shrine that smells of wet earth and old wood and...something like another dog, but sharp and strange. His mouth waters. He wants to bark, to call out a challenge to the strange-smelling one. He _wants_ to take off the disguise he's been wearing, but he hasn't seen any other strays around here yet and he's a little...nervous about doing it.

He leaves the shrine alone for now -- maybe he can come back tomorrow and look around -- and wanders on through the town. He's going to want food soon, and he doesn't know where any of the good trash bins are out here, so he'd better get looking. Probably there just won't _be_ as many good ones to choose from in such a small town, but if there aren't many strays to compete with, it won't matter, will it? He only needs to find enough for him. He'll try behind that set of shops up the road.

Before he makes it to the ramen shop's trash bin, though, he smells something even more distracting: the sweet tang of a bitch right on the cusp of her season. He tries to remind himself not to get too worked up, but his heart's kicking up a little, and he's...not quite getting hard, not yet, but his sheath feels like a tighter fit than it did a minute ago. Dinner can wait. He wants to find her.

Her scent's faint at first, mixed with other distracting stuff, human chemical smells like cologne and detergent. Yosuke does his best to follow _her_ , not get confused by that crap, and he thinks after he's gone a few blocks that he must be getting close.

There's a department store up ahead, sprawling and brightly lit, with tinny music playing whenever the doors open. The bright light and color is almost comforting, and Yosuke thinks he should remember where it is in case he winds up needing something. If the trash bins don't work out, he could see if his card has money left on it and _buy_ some food.

Later, though. Right now he has way better things to think about. He follows the warm scent of the bitch past the store and into the alley behind it, and when he gets to the back where all the broken-down boxes and crap are stored, there she is. She's tall and long-legged, sort of a soft cream color, and her ears are floppy. She's not really dressed -- she has a blue button-down shirt on, hanging off her shoulders where it's clearly made for someone bigger, but that's all. It looks like she put it on herself, because a human would have been able to do the buttons.

She smells _amazing_.

"Hey," Yosuke says softly. The bitch freezes, looks up from the box she'd been pawing through. "I, ah," Yosuke says. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she says, really fast. She looks at him, then past him, like she's thinking about running.

"What's wrong?" Yosuke asks. He takes a step closer. "Can I help?"

She shakes her head, and for a second it looks like she's about to bolt, but then she sniffs the air and stops. "You --" she sniffs again. "You're a dog?"

"Yeah," Yosuke says. He reaches up to push his hood back, so she can see his ears. "Hi. It's, um, nice to meet you."

  
____spacer____

"You should get out of here," she says. Not in a snarly this-is-my-territory way, just sort of quiet and tired. "This isn't a good place for us. If you're that good at passing for one of them, you should get out while you can."

That sounds pretty creepy, Yosuke has to admit. He'd ask what she means, but he doesn't think she'll give him that much time. "Come with me," he says instead. "I'll help you out."

Her eyes widen. "Can you really do that?" she says.

"I can try," Yosuke says. He wants to make her happy _so bad_. "Come on. Let's go." He reaches out, and she takes his offered paw.

Only then, before they've gone anywhere at all, a car turns into the alley, headlights blinding them both. Yosuke flinches from the light, and hears one of the doors open, then slam.

"There you are," a man's voice says. "Come on, Saki. You've had your fun. It's time to go home."

The bitch -- Saki -- squeezes Yosuke's paw once, then lets go. "Run," she says.

* * *

Souji shuts off the engine, pockets his keys, and picks up the lunch box on the passenger seat. He's still a little surprised that Dojima's working this late -- usually things in Inaba are pretty quiet, and animal control is a sort of cushy job. Every once in a while somebody's dog gets out off-leash, but mostly it's easy work. Strays are more of a city problem.

He locks the car -- a city habit he never really gave up when he moved back here -- and heads into the pound.

Adachi's on the desk, looking tired and distracted, but he brightens when he sees Souji coming in. "Hey," he says, smiling. "I really hope you're here to bring the boss his dinner."

Souji holds up the lunch box. "Is he in the back?"

"Yep," Adachi says. "Running all the checks on our new friend."

"I'll be right back," Souji says. He walks past the desk, through the door to the cages. The lights are bright back there, the cages scrubbed clean and bare. The dog that Dojima and Adachi brought in tonight is in the middle cage on the left, curled up on the bedding at the back. Souji isn't really a dog fancier, can't name his breed immediately, but he's a pretty good-looking dog: his coat's a warm chestnut color, and his build is lean, well balanced. His ears stand up and his face is expressive and elegant, even if he looks unhappy right now. When he realizes Souji is there, he looks up, his tail thumping once sort of forlornly. He has a fresh black eye.

"Poor puppy," Souji says. The cages are walled with glass, and he doesn't think the dog can actually hear him. "Looks like you weren't going anywhere without a fight, were you?"

The dog sighs, his head dropping.

He's not here for this, Souji reminds himself. He's here to bring Dojima some food, since he's stuck working late. He leaves the stray dog alone and goes through the second door, at the end of the row.

Beyond the cages is the lab; there's an examination table, some cabinets with medical supplies, and also another desk with a computer, where Dojima sits now. He's on the phone when Souji walks in, cradling the receiver against his shoulder and typing as he speaks:

"Right. Chestnut, solid. Intact. No obvious scars. ...No, not that we could find. ...That's right." He looks annoyed at the questions, impatient, but he manages about half a second of smile when Souji puts the lunch box down on the edge of the desk.

Souji smiles back wryly, points to the door -- he'll be out in the front room. Dojima nods, then goes back to his call, reaching for the lunch box with one hand.

On the way back through the cages, Souji doesn't stop to look at the dog again. He doesn't need to get himself involved in this, does he?

Adachi's playing solitaire on the front desk computer when Souji comes back out of the cage room. He jumps, minimizes the window, spins in his chair to smile awkwardly at Souji again. "How'd it go?" he says. "He still on the phone?"

Souji nods. "He didn't look happy about it."

"Yeah," Adachi says. "Our stray wouldn't give us any help about where he came from -- just shut right up, didn't even make up a story. It looks like he's never _been_ registered in the first place. He isn't microchipped and he doesn't have any collar calluses or anything. But it's still possible he belonged to somebody who just wasn't very careful with him, so." Adachi shrugs. "Dojima's big on all the procedures."

"Right," Souji says. "So that's what he's doing now? Trying to find out if somebody lost him?" That would have to be nerve-wracking, wouldn't it? He tries to imagine Yukiko losing Chie -- she'd be miserable. Not that Chie would ever run away; she was bred for loyalty, and she's been with Yukiko since she was a puppy. But still.

"You got it," Adachi says. "Calling around to all the little podunk districts that aren't connected to the central database, to see if anybody's reported a lost dog that fits our boy's description." He shakes his head. "I'd be surprised if we get any matches, but we have to jump through the hoops to start the holding period. Everything by the book, that's Dojima."

Souji nods. He remembers. Dojima was pretty by-the-book when he took Souji in to get him through high school, too. It was a pain sometimes, but he was trying to help. "What if nobody reports him missing? You put him up for adoption?"

"In seventy-two hours, if he's tame enough, and not infected with anything too serious," Adachi says. "I mean, probably this guy's going to take a little longer than that, honestly, because we'll have to get the vet in here to fix him first --"

"What?" Souji says. "Before you even offer him to somebody?" He'd always sort of thought that was up to a dog's owner, not mandatory.

Adachi shrugs again. "He's a mutt," he says. "Cute, but a mutt. And males are a lot less likely to get aggressive if they're fixed. He'll be easier to place if he's not trying any dominance crap or humping anybody's leg."

Souji laughs awkwardly. That does sound unpleasant, it's true. He's _heard_ of people being into that -- hell, he could probably find videos on the internet if he knew where to look -- but he guesses maybe someone who wanted an intact, aggressive male would go through a breeder instead of taking their chances with a shelter dog.

The pause in the conversation has gone on long enough to get a little uncomfortable. Before Souji can find an easy way to change the subject, Dojima comes out of the back, jacket slung over his shoulder, lunch box in one hand. "That's the last of them," he says. "I'm going home. Adachi, you can close up in here."

"Aaw, come on," Adachi says. "You're going to make me do it all by myself?"

Dojima scowls. "I wouldn't have been working late in the first place if we hadn't spent half the afternoon trying to track down _your_ dog," he says. "Some kind of animal control officer you are."

Adachi winces, and Souji has to look down to hide his smile. That is a pretty bad sign, isn't it? "At least she led us to the stray?" Adachi says, but he doesn't sound like he expects that to make a difference where Dojima's concerned. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, sir."

Souji digs his keys out of his pocket. "You want a ride home?" he says.

"Sure," Dojima says, nodding. "It's not nearly as nice a walk after dark." He shoots Adachi another glare -- just to make him flinch, Souji thinks sometimes -- and turns away toward the door.

The air's cooling fast outside, now that the sun is down; it has that heavy dampness to it that means fog will probably come in thick off the river tonight. Souji unlocks the car and they both get in. Neither of them is good at small talk; they never have been. But it seems unfriendly to just sit in silence all the way home, so Souji tries for conversation anyway. "He was pretty cute, that stray."

"He's a troublemaker," Dojima says, shaking his head. "Took us a good hour to corner him, after we found him the first time. Would you believe he'd gotten his paws on a full set of clothes? Almost looked just like a person, when he had his hood up." He sighs, and it sounds frustrated. "He even had a cash card in one of the pockets."

"Wow," Souji says. "Not just an ordinary lost dog, then."

Dojima grunts. "No, this was deliberate. They didn't have any records matching his description in the Okina City database, but I'm betting he's a city stray."

That's Souji's turn to make a thoughtful noise. When he lived in Nagoya, there was a bridge not too far from his apartment with a pack of strays living under it. They were a menace, snarling at children, fighting with each other, supposedly attacking people over food if they got the chance. _They_ certainly wouldn't have been easy to find homes for. "So he won't have anybody coming to pick him up," Souji says.

"Probably not," Dojima agrees. "But he seems healthy, and he's young enough that he might still be trainable, so there's always a chance somebody will want to adopt him."

They're at a stop light; Souji glances over. "You sound doubtful."

"I hope I'm wrong," Dojima says, "but it's tough to find homes for the males sometimes." He looks out the window. "An intact female at that age, especially one with clean lines like that, no problem, but not a lot of people want to deal with the headache of an untrained adult male."

Souji considers that as they cross the bridge and turn up the road to Dojima's house, wondering just how much work it would be, and whether it would be worthwhile. It isn't his problem, he reminds himself. He really only _saw_ the dog for two minutes, tops; it's not like he had a chance to bond with it no matter how good-looking it was. "I hope somebody decides to give him a chance," he says anyway, as they reach Dojima's front gate.

"Me, too," Dojima says. He sounds tired enough that Souji feels a little bad for him -- it can't be an easy part of the job. "Thanks for the ride, and for bringing dinner by."

"Any time," Souji says. It looks like Nanako's left a light on for Dojima; Souji watches him walk up the front path, doesn't put the car back into gear until he's gotten the door open and stepped inside.

He has three days to talk himself out of it in any case, Souji reminds himself as he turns around and starts toward home. That should be plenty. Right?

* * *

By his third day in the pound, Yosuke's too depressed to want to eat. The officers haven't really tried to talk to him again since the first night, when they wanted him to tell them about the owner he doesn't have. Sometimes, if it's the older guy bringing him food, he'll stop and give Yosuke this awful disappointed look that makes Yosuke want to tuck his tail no matter how much he tells himself he's tough. But even that is better than having the younger guy do it, because _he_ smells like Saki, and knowing exactly how far along she is in her season drives Yosuke crazy.

On the third day, the officers show up with a woman in a white coat and open Yosuke's cage. "Come on," the older guy says. "Out you go."

Something about the woman's smell puts Yosuke's hackles up. "What for?" he says.

"Because I told you to," the older guy snaps, and the part of Yosuke that's hungry and tired and was never alpha in the first place wants to listen.

He inches toward the door, but he's nervous.

The younger guy holds out a hand, smiling. "Come on, puppy," he says. "It's okay. Come here."

Yosuke's tail tries to wag a little -- fuck, he wants reassurance so bad -- but then he realizes what the woman smells like. Hospitals. "You're a vet," he says. He stops where he is, bracing himself for a fight. "You're here to cut me."

The woman smiles gently. "I am a vet," she says. "But I'm just here to give you a checkup and make sure you're healthy before you leave here."

"I don't believe you," Yosuke says. Every stray hears the horror stories: if animal control catches you, they'll neuter you. Period. Whether they think they can tame you or not.

"It's the truth," the older guy says. He sounds unhappy about it, which is the only thing that makes Yosuke think it might be true. "We've had a special request to leave you intact."

Yosuke tries to look him in the eyes, and has to look down really fast. "From who?"

The officer sighs. "Someone who wants to adopt you," he says. "Now will you come out of there and get your exam taken care of?"

There's got to be a catch, but Yosuke inches out of the cage anyway. The younger guy takes his arm to lead him toward the back room, and Yosuke's lips skin back from his teeth instinctively.

"Hey, easy," the guy says, reaching up to skritch Yosuke's ears. "It's going to be okay, you'll see."

Yosuke has his doubts, but his tail wags a little because he wants it to be true.

The back room stinks, like cigarettes and antiseptic and faint, old fear. Yosuke hunches in on himself. "Let's get this over with," he says.

"Right." The vet smiles warmly. "This shouldn't take long at all."

She handles him quickly and confidently, touching him all over, pressing spots and then moving on. It's _weird_ \-- it's hard to think of her as female even when she has her hand on his balls, because she's just that clinical. She listens to Yosuke's heartbeat and breathing, studies his eyes and ears and mouth. When she takes his temperature with a thermometer up his ass, he snarls a little, but it doesn't actually hurt -- it's just embarrassing. It's just as much of a dominance thing when it's a human instead of another dog. Maybe more.

"So far, so good," the vet says when she looks at the thermometer. "You're doing quite well for a stray."

"I'm tough," Yosuke says, trying to hold onto his pride. He's had some scrapes, sure, but he gets by.

"I'm sure you are." The vet looks at the animal control officers. "Could you hold him for this next bit, please?"

Of course he panics a little at that, but he doesn't have a chance to do anything about it before the officers grab him and push him down over the table. The vet sticks him with needles, a few times -- the first time he just snarls, but the ones after that hurt more, and he can't help struggling.

It only takes a minute or two, though, before she steps back and says, "There, all done." The officers let him stand up after that, but they don't actually let go of him. Yosuke wishes he dared to pull away, but he doesn't want them to hurt him any more. "I'll have to do his bloodwork to be sure, and of course he'll need to be treated for parasites," the vet says, talking to the older officer -- Yosuke keeps thinking of him as the alpha, and then wondering if a human would take that as an insult. "But he does appear remarkably healthy for a dog who's never had a home."

"Thanks," the older guy says. "Adachi, can you put him back?"

"Sure thing," the younger guy answers, and the older one lets go. "Come on, puppy. It's just for a little bit longer now."

Yosuke lets himself be led back to the room with the cages. "Who is it?" he asks. "The person who...wants me for a pet."

"Dojima's nephew," the officer says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the examination room when Yosuke looks at him in confusion. "Apparently you made quite an impression when he stopped by on your first night." He smiles reassuringly. "Souji's a real nice kid. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

"Yeah," Yosuke says, as the officer herds him back into his cage. Nobody in the pack has ever been a kept pet -- and pets generally don't have anything to say to strays, if they can help it -- so all he's got to go on is the vids, the way it looks in those cutesy shows the idols do. And that can't really be accurate, right? "I bet he will."

* * *

It doesn't entirely seem real until Souji's actually taking his new dog home. Reading up on caring for a dog, even talking to Dojima about the particulars -- even the incredibly awkward conversation with Dojima about letting him take the dog without neutering him first -- was all kind of abstract. Paying the landlady a pet deposit made it a little more real, and filling out the license paperwork made it a little more real than that. But it's not until he's actually driving home, with his new dog in the backseat fidgeting with his collar, that it really starts to sink in.

He glances in the rearview as he waits for a light to change. So far, Yosuke -- that's the name he came with; Souji hasn't decided whether he wants to change it or not -- mostly seems too distracted by his new collar and the scenery going by to actually pay Souji much attention. After spending most of a week locked up in the pound, Souji figures that makes sense. And they'll have plenty of time to get to know each other.

When he parks the car, Yosuke stops fidgeting and actually looks at him. He has this look in his eyes that Souji noticed even when he was still in the pound, like he's trying to seem tough but he badly needs reassurance about something. Souji smiles at him. "Here we are," he says.

Yosuke nods.

Souji gets out of the car, grabs the leash from the passenger seat and opens the back door. He makes sure to clip the leash to Yosuke's collar before he undoes the seatbelt that's strapped Yosuke in; he doesn't _think_ Yosuke's about to make a break for it, but you can't be too careful. "Come on," he says.

Yosuke still doesn't say anything, just follows him out of the car and into the building. His breathing is loud, sort of wuffly -- he's scenting things, Souji realizes as they head up the stairs. The stairwell doesn't smell especially interesting to him, but he supposes that's probably different for a dog.

They reach Souji's third-floor apartment, and Souji has to fumble one-handed for his keys so he doesn't let go of the leash; that probably really is overkill, isn't it? Where's a collared, leashed dog going to run off to in the building's hallway?

And then they're inside, and Yosuke's looking around like he's never seen anything like this.

"What do you think?" Souji asks. He throws the bolt behind him.

"It kind of is like the vids, huh," Yosuke says. Souji unclips the leash from his collar and he inches further into the apartment, looking at the kitchen and the TV and the futon like they're things he's never seen before.

Souji shrugs. "Maybe a little," he says. "Not that nice, I don't think." He gives Yosuke another minute. "You've never lived with a person before at all, have you?"

Yosuke gives him a wary look, one ear tilted back nervously. "I said that to the officers," he says.

"Well," Souji says with a little wry smile, "humans don't always tell the truth to the police." Yosuke was found in a full suit of clothes, carrying a cash card. He's no stranger to deception.

He smiles a little bit, and his tail wags slowly behind him for a few seconds before he stops it. "No, I guess not," he says. "But I...I was telling the truth about that."

"Must have been hard," Souji says. He goes over and sits down on the futon, pointedly relaxing. "Not a lot to eat, not a lot of comforts."

"I guess," Yosuke says. "I was used to it."

Souji nods. "Come here," he says. Calm, but certain. That's how all the websites suggest doing it, at least if you don't expect problems to start with.

Yosuke shuffles over, watching him as if _he's_ the one who might bite.

"Here," Souji clarifies, pointing at the floor beside the futon. "Down."

Yosuke takes another step before he stops himself. "I'm not a pet," he says.

"You've never been a pet before," Souji corrects him.

"I didn't want to change that," Yosuke says.

Souji raises an eyebrow. "Why not?" he says.

Yosuke doesn't answer, just stands there watching him, ears twitching with indecision.

"Down," Souji says again. "I want you to cooperate with me. I think we could be good friends if you're willing to give it a try. And I'll be good to you if you don't fight with me."

Another few long seconds of silence. "Good to me, huh?" Yosuke says.

Souji smiles. "Give me a chance," he says. "You've been a stray. You know how that goes. But you've never tried being a pet before. How do you know it's not better?"

"Because," Yosuke says. "It's --" He stares at Souji like he's expecting Souji to have an answer for him, and when Souji doesn't help him out, after a minute his ears and shoulders both slump together. "I'll try," he says, and goes to his knees on the floor.

"Good dog," Souji says, and Yosuke's tail wags again. Souji reaches out, slowly, and works his fingers into the thick, almost human-like hair of Yosuke's head to scratch at the base of his ears. Yosuke sighs, and his tail wags more easily. "I think it'll be better than you're expecting, you know? I'll take good care of you. That's what it means to have a pet. Being responsible. Making sure your needs are taken care of, and you're healthy."

Yosuke leans against his thigh. "That's not what it sounds like, talking to other strays," he says. "And...and runaways."

Souji nods. "I guess not," he says. "But strays don't know any better, and runaways are running away because their owners weren't doing a good job, right? Give me a chance to be better than that." He lets his hand slide down a little further, stroking the close-lying fur of Yosuke's back. It's smooth and soft, almost velvety under his hand. "I want to be a good owner for you, and I know you can be a good dog for me. Okay?"

"Okay," Yosuke says. He still doesn't sound _happy_ about it, but he sounds like he's not willing to argue any further, so that's something.

Souji keeps him there for another minute, just petting him, and then pats the futon beside himself. "You can come up if you want," he says.

Yosuke gets up on the futon, awkwardly, and at first it looks like he's going to try to sit on it like a human, but that doesn't leave any room for his tail and he stops. Instead he stretches out on his side, leaning down to rest his head in Souji's lap. "Like this?"

"Good dog," Souji says again. He tries to put as much feeling into it as he can; the advice sites were all pretty clear on that, too. A dog pays at least as much attention to the things you're saying with your tone and your body language as your words.

He strokes Yosuke's fur slowly, just admiring him for a minute, now that he's finally brought his dog home and can afford to just enjoy him. His coat is a warm, appealing chestnut color, a little too dark to be fox-red, and it's short enough to show off the lines of muscle and bone beneath. He's lean -- maybe slightly underfed, but not bad, for a dog who's been scavenging all his life -- and his limbs are all well-proportioned. His paws are of a size with his limbs, so he's probably done as much growing as he's going to.

Eventually, curiosity makes Souji want to touch more. "Up," he says, nudging the leg that Yosuke's lying on.

Yosuke stands up awkwardly. "What?" he says.

"It's okay," Souji tells him, standing up too. "You haven't done anything wrong. I just wanted to be able to get a better look at you, that's all."

"Oh," Yosuke says. He stands there, fidgeting slightly, mostly doing as he's told.

Souji runs his hands down Yosuke's arms, feeling the shapes of muscle there; he strokes Yosuke's back, all the way down to the base of his tail. His tail curves up slightly, an odd angle that doesn't match the breed standard of any of the dogs Souji's been looking at online. The paler fur on his belly points down, so stroking it just naturally leads Souji's hand toward his cock. He lets himself really look, now that there's nobody around to see him do it -- Yosuke's cock is tucked up inside his body, sheathed, the tip just barely protuding when Souji runs his fingertips over the outline inside the sheath.

Yosuke whimpers. "What are you --"

"Is it true you want it all the time?" Souji asks.

"What, human guys don't?" Yosuke says.

Souji smiles. "I guess it's all relative," he says. He keeps petting Yosuke, and he can feel Yosuke's cock stiffening, can see it starting to push free of the sheath a little more. When he wraps his fingers around the bare red crown and strokes the sheath back, Yosuke whines. Can't really jerk off with those paws of his, can he?

  
____spacer____

It only takes a few strokes before there's sticky wetness on Souji's fingers, and Yosuke's trembling at his touch. It's hot, and the nervous, needy look on Yosuke's face is hotter. No wonder people get so into this. "Come on," Souji says, letting go.

"Don't stop," Yosuke says. "Please."

"We're not done," Souji promises. "We're going to bed, that's all."

"Oh," Yosuke says. His tail wags. "Okay."

Souji picks up the leash off the table and leads the way. Yosuke does the curious looking-around thing again when they get into the bedroom, sniffing at the dresser, eyeing the bed suspiciously.

"Up," Souji says, pointing to it. "It's okay."

Yosuke shoots him a look like he wants to protest being ordered around, but he does what he's told anyway. It's not perfect obedience, but it's pretty good for day one, right?

Souji steps up to the edge of the bed and reaches for Yosuke's collar. That makes Yosuke flinch, but not fast enough; Souji gets the leash on him and tugs him down onto his paws and knees, then ties the leash to the headboard. There's plenty of room for Yosuke to move, but not enough for him to get up.

"What's the big idea?" Yosuke says. His ears tilt back.

"Just want to make sure you hold still," Souji says as he strips. He smiles. "You're not trained yet, so I can't just trust you to do what you're told, can I?"

Yosuke's shoulders are tense, and the fur between them stands up in a stiff little ridge down his back. Souji pets him, encouraging it to smooth down.

"Don't get so upset," Souji says. "This is going to go fine." He opens the drawer in his bedside table and finds a little tube of lubricant, and a packet of condoms. Yosuke watches him, trying to turn to follow him when he gets up on the bed, too.

When he smears some of the lube beneath Yosuke's tail, Yosuke tenses and snarls, pulling against the leash. The headboard creaks.

"Are you hurting?" Souji asks.

"N-no," Yosuke says.

"Then relax," Souji tells him. He pushes, just one finger for now, feeling how tight and hot Yosuke is around him -- and Yosuke makes another angry noise, but he also mostly just goes limp, his head dropping onto his front paws, the fight going out of his shoulders. Looks like he's used to not being dominant -- that'll make this whole process easier, won't it?

Souji works him open, slow and steady, and it's really sort of impressive how quickly Yosuke adjusts to it, how little resistance there is when Souji adds a second finger and then, a few minutes later, a third. His breath hitches when Souji withdraws completely, and he looks back over his shoulder, his eyes pleading again.

"I still want," he says, and then ducks his head when Souji keeps meeting his eyes steadily.

"I know," Souji says, rolling a condom on. "I'm going to take care of you, too. Now."

He lines up and pushes, and Yosuke shudders under him, whimpering as Souji sinks his cock in deep. He feels even better than he promised to, shivery and tight, responding to every thrust. His lifted tail brushes against Souji's belly, ticklish, and when Souji reaches under him to stroke his cock he whines helplessly.

The dog fancier websites weren't even exaggerating about their stamina, either. Once Souji's touching him, Yosuke's amazingly responsive. He clenches tight around Souji's cock repeatedly, panting and whining as his cock jumps in Souji's hand. He's probably gone off half a dozen times by the time Souji feels himself getting close, his coordination starting to slip as he drives in harder, faster -- and the next time Yosuke shivers tight around him, Souji lets go, pushing deep and coming hard.

He slumps over Yosuke's back, gasping for breath, and Yosuke shivers beneath him.

"Good dog," Souji says -- it's important to reward good behavior, isn't it? -- and sits back, easing free carefully. There's something really _satisfying_ about the way Yosuke looks right now, tail lifted, head down, his asshole bared and stretched open, glistening wet. This was worth it.

Souji strips off the condom and throws it out, then comes back to stretch out on the bed and pet Yosuke's back soothingly. Yosuke looks up at him, face still guarded and worried, and starts to wag his tail slowly.

"That was really good," Souji tells him again, and Yosuke's tail wags a little harder. Souji reaches up to scratch behind his ears, and the nervous look starts to fade, too; after a minute Yosuke might even be smiling a little. "Once we get cleaned up in here," Souji tells him, "I'll get you some food. How's that sound? Not so bad, right?"

Yosuke shrugs, squirms a little, like he's trying to think of a way to argue and can't come up with one. "I guess," he says. "Not so bad."

* * *

Yosuke wants to stay mad about being taken home and kept like somebody's pet. He wants to. He's pretty sure this isn't _right_.

But the thing is, it feels a lot better than he always thought it would. Some of that is easy to understand. Souji feeds him a couple of times a day, every day, so he pretty much never goes hungry. He had to take some pretty gross medicine for the first few days after he saw the vet, but apparently that was to kill parasites, so it also helps keep him from being hungry all the time. The rains have come through once or twice since he got taken to Souji's apartment, and he can watch the rain from the living room, where there's a big glass door onto a balcony -- but he doesn't have to sit out in it, vying for one of the few good spots to stay dry and having to fight other dogs for the privilege.

And even the dominance stuff is...well. Souji expects him to do what he's told, and doesn't really give him a lot of room to get around that, but he doesn't ask Yosuke to do a lot of unreasonable things. Mostly it's really easy -- sit, stay, come, heel -- even if every once in a while it seems like he's just giving orders to see if Yosuke will fight back. Yosuke doesn't resist too often, though. He doesn't get anything out of it, really, and when Souji's happy he tells Yosuke what a good dog he is. And when he wants to screw Yosuke -- which he does pretty often -- even that is...different than Yosuke would have expected.

Yosuke's lost fights with pack alphas before. It's not like that was the first time anybody had mounted him to put him in his place. But it feels really different with Souji. He goes slower, takes it a lot easier, uses all that extra slick stuff that he has to wash off afterward. And he strokes Yosuke's cock when he does it, every time, so Yosuke gets off when Souji's mounting him.

That was _weird_ the first few times. Yosuke's still not really sure how he should feel about it. But he thinks, as long as he doesn't have to talk to other dogs about it, as long as he doesn't have to admit it out loud or anything...he's kind of grateful. Souji's not a bad alpha. He takes care of Yosuke, in trade for the other stuff, and that's better than any stray pack leader Yosuke's ever dealt with.

At first he doesn't really get to go out much, because he can only go out when Souji's around to take him -- on his leash, which is a pain -- and when Souji trusts him to not get too difficult. Souji still sort of expects him to run away at the first chance, he's pretty sure. But honestly Yosuke's not sure he would, at this point. Definitely not just pulling free of his leash and making a break for it. He doesn't know where he'd go, and he wouldn't have a disguise or any good places to hide, and he really doesn't want to get picked up and thrown back in the pound.

Eventually he tells that to Souji, and Souji laughs a little when Yosuke explains his reasons for not running, but then he pets Yosuke and plays with his ears and agrees to take him out for walks more often. He's not so bad, if Yosuke has to have an owner at all.

After a few weeks, one afternoon when Souji takes him outside for a walk Yosuke can smell a bitch out there somewhere. He's honestly a little surprised it took so long -- from the way everyone talked about it in the city, it sounded like the countryside was full of dogs. They don't really know what they're talking about, though, he figures. There just aren't stray packs the same way, at least no place near Inaba. So most of the dogs are pets, and most of the pets are cut.

But there's Saki, and maybe he's smelling her now. Or maybe there's someone else, distant enough that the breeze just barely brings him the tang of her need, the peak of her season. He tries not to fidget, tries not to make a big deal out of it. He knows Souji won't let him just go off looking for her, no matter how badly he wants to.

He can't control himself, though. He just -- every tiny breath of that scent drives him crazy. And the third or fourth time that Souji has to say, "Heel," and tug back on Yosuke's leash, he's frowning kind of thoughtfully.

"Sit," Souji says, and Yosuke does, on the grass at his feet. "Good boy. Something's bothering you today. What is it?"

Yosuke looks down at Souji's feet, his ears folding down. He doesn't want to be in trouble. "I can smell a bitch in heat out there," he mumbles.

Souji puts a hand under his chin and tilts his head up. "Speak up. I can't help if you don't tell me what you need."

He probably can't help anyway, but the fact that he wants to makes Yosuke's tail wag a little. "I'm okay," he says. "There's a bitch in her season around here somewhere, and I can just barely smell it, and it's distracting." He leans into Souji's hand. "I know you won't let me go find her, though. I'm trying to ignore it."

"This is what it looks like when you're trying to ignore it?" Souji says. He sounds amused, though, not mad. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

Yosuke really looks up then, tries to study Souji's face. "Of course not," he says. "It's like...." He doesn't even have words. He knew that humans didn't really have a sense of smell, but it's strange to try to _talk_ to one and realize how true that is. "Isn't there...anything human girls do that makes you like that? Where you can't think about anything else and they're all you want?"

"Hmm," Souji says. "Come." He tugs just a little on Yosuke's leash, and Yosuke gets up to go trotting after him, down the path along the river. Yosuke wonders if the question made Souji mad. He hopes not. He doesn't like the idea of Souji being mad at him. He tries harder to pretend he can't smell it when the bitch's sweetness reaches him on the breeze.

After a few minutes, though, when they've gotten down almost to the spot where they usually turn around -- down by that little gazebo thing with the benches -- Souji says, "I don't think it's the same."

"The same?" Yosuke echoes.

Souji nods. "Men might complain about feeling the way you do, sometimes. And sometimes we do want to come badly enough that it's uncomfortable. But it's not like what's happening to you, I don't think."

"I see," Yosuke says, even though he doesn't really. But he's getting used to the idea that he just can't understand humans.

"Not being able to go look for her is bothering you, isn't it?" Souji says.

Yosuke shakes his head, and then thinks maybe he's supposed to be as honest as he can. "A little," he says.

"Poor puppy," Souji says, and his tone is sort of laughing but he calls Yosuke puppy when he wants to be nice, so it's okay. "Promise I'll take care of you when we get home."

It isn't the same, but he's trying to help, and it...it does feel good anyway. "Thanks," Yosuke says.

* * *

Souji has been having dinner with the Dojimas once a week since he moved back to Inaba. This last month he's had to miss out, while he worked on getting his dog settled in and used to living with him. Yosuke -- Souji did decide to keep the name -- has next to no impulse control, which gets a little annoying, but he wants to please, so most of the time that balances out. And it seems like he's getting better -- this week Souji took him over to the Amagi Inn, and they needed pretty close supervision but he and Chie got along decently enough. He can handle being left alone for an evening, Souji is pretty sure.

He gets to the house and knocks at the door, and he can hear footsteps inside almost instantly. Nanako throws the door open an instant later. "Souji!" she says. "You came."

Souji smiles. "Sorry it's been so long," he says. He steps inside and toes his shoes off. "You've grown since the last time I saw you, haven't you?"

Nanako blushes. "I have?"

"Sure looks that way," Souji says, following her into the living room. "Two centimeters? Three?"

"That's the thing about kids," Dojima says, getting up from the couch. "Turn your back for a minute and they're growing up."

"Daddy," Nanako protests, and retreats to the kitchen to get away from the attention.

Dojima smiles, watching her, his face softening like it doesn't for anyone else. He catches himself at it after a minute and shakes it off. "Good to see you," he says to Souji. "It has been a while."

"I missed you, too," Souji says. "How have things been?"

He keeps Dojima talking while Nanako finishes with dinner, asking about the little trials and tribulations of the job -- stories Nanako's probably already heard, so she won't really miss anything.

Of course, that means it's his turn to talk once the food is ready, so perhaps it's not the best strategy after all. Souji doesn't have much news about work, and relates the few little tidbits between bites of udon.

Dojima's watching him curiously as they finish up the meal. "How about that dog?" he says. "Has he been giving you any trouble?" He's expecting the answer to be yes, it's pretty clear.

"He's been pretty good, actually," Souji says. Dojima looks skeptical, and Souji tries to choose his words carefully -- he can't exactly say what a good screw Yosuke is in front of Nanako, can he? But on the bright side, that also means not bringing up the way Yosuke gets a little _too_ enthusiastic some days, the way he woke Souji up a few days ago begging to get off. "We're still getting used to each other, I guess. But I think he's happy to have a home."

"I'm surprised," Dojima says. "I would have thought he'd be pretty wild."

 _Wild_ , hmm? Well, that's one way to put it. Souji smiles. "Don't trust me to train him right?" he says.

Dojima sighs, shaking his head. "Don't make that mistake," he says. "It's not about what you do or don't do, not mostly. Sweet as he might be, he's an animal. He has instincts, and he won't always be able to resist them."

That's probably Dojima's way of telling him, again, that he really ought to get Yosuke neutered. Souji nods. "I'll remember," he says.

* * *

With the weather getting warmer, Souji's been leaving the windows open a lot more. In a way, Yosuke's grateful, because the smells coming in from outside are interesting a lot of the time -- at least as interesting as the stuff he can watch on Souji's TV if he puts in the effort to work the remote. It's good to have things to help keep him from being bored when Souji's off doing whatever he does at his job. But sometimes the open windows are a little maddening, too. This morning the wind shifted, and now he's breathing in a bitch in heat again, distant but unmistakable. It happens more often than he thought it would -- there are at least a few bitches living pretty nearby, and they're all fertile, and they must all be pets, because they're not getting knocked up. They just keep going into season, over and over.

The first time Yosuke had it bad for one of them, Souji seemed to like it. They screwed a _lot_ , because Yosuke couldn't stop breathing her in and kept getting needy no matter how many times Souji made him come. The times after that Souji's been less enthusiastic -- he still screws Yosuke like normal, but not more than normal, and last time he tethered Yosuke in the living room when they were done so Yosuke wouldn't come crawl into bed with him and beg for another go.

If he doesn't want to listen to Yosuke beg, then he definitely wouldn't want to listen to Yosuke's other suggestion, which is that he should get to go and actually _find_ one of the bitches and hook up. It's sort of frustrating that none of the humans treat that like an option. How do they expect a dog to resist? It's not natural.

Yosuke paces back and forth in the living room, wondering when Souji's going to come home, wondering if Souji will even be in the mood to give him a hand when he gets there. He's starting to think humans are all halfway neutered.

On his thousandth turn in front of the glass door, he stops. He'd swear there's a draft there, that isn't from the window on the other side of the room. He leans closer to the door, breathes in slowly. Yes. The air's fresher there. The door isn't latched all the way shut. The catch that's supposed to lock it, the one he can't work with his paws, is in the lock position, but...Yosuke presses his paw against the door, fitting blunt claws into the tiny gap between the door and the frame. He pulls, and his claws slip uncomfortably. But he had room to do it, so that's something, right? He tries again.

This time he definitely gets a little progress before his claws slide free. The door's almost open. He pushes his paw into the gap up to the pads, and that gives him enough of a hold to be able to really push, and the heavy door slides slowly back. His tail starts wagging. There's a thin little screen door, too, but he can hook his claws in that and get it pushed open with no problem.

He steps out on the balcony and breathes in deep, his ears pricked, his tail wagging hard. Close by there's garbage in somebody's alley, and somewhere there's a neighborhood cat, and the smell of cars is heavy over all of it -- but further out there's the bitch, clear and bright. Yosuke's going to go find her. He'll come back when they're done. Souji won't mind as long as he comes home, right?

He's going over the side of the balcony before he's really even finished the thought, and then it's too late to back out, because there's no way he's going to get up to the second-floor balcony and back into Souji's apartment without help -- but it's so hard to care.

Yosuke jogs down the alley, keeping an eye out for trouble, keeping his head up and sniffing for anything that could throw him off. This is better. This is so much better than having to just sit and wait. He takes a turn at the first corner he comes to, moving as quickly as he can. Last time he was free in Inaba, he was passing for one of them, but like this he'd get stopped immediately, so he needs to not draw anybody's attention. He tries to keep away from windows and off main roads, and it's a _really_ good thing Inaba's so small -- though, okay, if he were still in the city maybe he would never have gotten caught in the first place, and he'd still be a stray.

Which...would that be better? Maybe. His belly's full all the time and his coat's never been so glossy, but he missed being _out_ like this, too.

When he gets the chance, Yosuke ducks down toward the park with its little stream. He can follow that for a while, he thinks. The scent of the bitch is getting stronger as he heads slowly south, and he thinks maybe it's Chie. He's definitely closer to her place than he started, and he doesn't know where Saki actually lives.

After heading down the stream about as far as Souji takes him for walks -- and, okay, getting distracted for a minute to go tearing after a squirrel just because he could -- he's pretty sure it's Chie he smells. He licks his lips. She's probably a pretty wild ride, if he can get into the inn to see her. The idea sounds really good.

Once he knows where he's going, it's easy. Yosuke cuts across the rice fields outside of town, ducks through little stands of trees and bamboo, following his nose. Everything out this far smells so sweet and green, so little like the city. Even in Inaba there are still things that smell like his old home, dumpsters and exhaust, but out here it's completely different. He likes it, even if he's not really stopping to pay attention -- after all, there's that one smell that's better than all the rest.

And he's getting closer now. The inn is tucked back in a little hollow where the ground lies low, where apparently there are hot springs for people to play in -- it sounded like the girl Souji was visiting here was really proud of that, like they're something other people really like. There are neat paths through the grounds, and knotty old trees with bristly clumps of needles, and up ahead there's the main house.

Before Yosuke quite gets there, somebody screams. It's a girl's voice, panicky and high, and it's really close by. Yosuke bolts toward it.

He comes around a corner to the inn's side door, and it's the girl Souji was visiting, knocked down, her robe pulled askew. There's a short-tailed, desperate-smelling dog there, standing over her, pawing at her in frustration. "Where?" he's saying. "Come on, come on, it smells so good. You smell so good. It's driving me _crazy_."

Yosuke breathes in and knows exactly what the other dog is talking about -- Souji's girl _does_ smell good, like Chie's been rubbing all over her, hot and musky and maddeningly sweet. But she's still a person, still not really the one in season. She's wearing the smell -- like Adachi wore Saki's, those few days when Yosuke was in the pound -- but it's not _her_ smell. And she's trying to push the other dog away and he's not paying attention, grinding against her like it's her problem when what he's really smelling is what Chie needs.

The girl takes a deep breath and screams again, and the dog flinches but doesn't let her go. Yosuke puts his ears down, growling back in his throat. In a minute the other dog will notice him there and then he'll lose his advantage, but before then --

He springs, tackling the strange dog and trying to bite at his throat. The dog yelps, snarls, and kicks at him. Somewhere in the background there are slamming noises, feet on the inn's floors and the doors opening -- the girl's saying something to her people, but Yosuke can't spare the attention to hear what it is with the other dog fighting back. He was never all that good at fighting. He's holding his own now, though, and if he can win this fight, then -- then --

Yosuke rolls away from the other dog and comes up into a crouch, wary. They circle each other, ears down, hackles raised. If he can win this fight, then...if they were strays, it would impress Chie. It would give him a good shot at being the one to mount her. But she's shut inside the inn's walls by a bunch of humans, and humans don't think that way.

"Neither one of us can win this, can we?" Yosuke says.

"I would have," the other dog says plaintively. "I was going to. You ruined it."

"You were not," Yosuke says. "Are you out of your mind, going after the owner?"

The dog growls, showing all his teeth, and jumps at Yosuke for another round. _Idiot_ , Yosuke thinks, and rolls as he hits the ground. He might not be able to win this, but he's sure as hell not going to lose.

* * *

It's been really weird, not having Yosuke in the house these last few days. Souji hadn't realized how much he'd gotten used to having the company until he got home the other night to find the sliding door pried open and Yosuke gone. Even getting that call from the pound -- Yosuke was picked up _fighting_ with another dog? the same Yosuke who's never done anything more aggressive than pout at him? -- was a relief, despite the bad news that went with it.

And as bad news goes, really it could have been a lot worse. There's apparently a complicated set of standards for determining when a dog is too dangerous to keep, and when it's just dangerous enough to make the owner jump through extra hoops to keep it, and when it's not to blame for its violent behavior. The other dog that Yosuke fought with is being treated as the aggressor, because it apparently was harassing Yukiko, so Yosuke isn't in nearly as much trouble as he could be. They still had to keep him for long enough to neuter him, because local law says that any dog impounded at large twice has to be fixed -- Souji knows better than to try to argue Dojima out of following the rules twice for the same thing -- but that's not so bad. The fortunate part, as far as Souji can tell, is that now _he_ isn't responsible for the decision; he won't have to worry about Yosuke losing faith in him as an owner over it.

He pulls up at the pound and gets out of the car; it's late in the day, but the lights are still on in the front room and Adachi is there at the desk when Souji gets to the door. The little bell over the door jingles when he comes inside.

Adachi looks up from the computer -- solitaire again? -- and smiles at him. "There you are," he says. "I was afraid you were going to keep me here all night."

"Sorry," Souji says. "You were waiting on me?"

"It's no big deal," Adachi reassures him. "The boss wanted me to stick around until you'd come to collect your delinquent, that's all." He's still smiling, so Souji assumes he doesn't mean 'delinquent' all that seriously. "We've got a couple of forms you need to fill out, and payment for the procedure, and then you can take him home."

Souji nods, stepping up to the counter. "Okay," he says, "let's get that done."

Adachi passes him a sheet of paper with the heading _Dangerous and Potentially Dangerous Dog Regulations_. "You probably won't have to really worry about this, honestly. Your boy was just involved in a scrape with another dog over a female, and now that he's fixed he won't do that anymore. So this is mostly a formality. For the next year, he'll be listed as 'potentially dangerous' because he's fought with another dog. Keep him out of trouble, and next year he won't need that on the registration anymore."

"What about the other dog?" Souji asks as he skims the information on the form, the rules about keeping his dog under control in public places, the requirements for proper confinement.

"Mitsuo's going to get saddled with the 'dangerous' regs," Adachi says, "which might just mean curtains for him, honestly. He threatened Miss Amagi but didn't actually hurt her, so he doesn't have to be put down right away, but -- well. He was a stray to start with, and it's going to be really hard to find him a taker with a record like that."

"I can imagine," Souji says. He signs at the bottom of the page and hands it back. The next thing Adachi gives him is a statement from the vet, an itemized listing for the anaesthetic and surgery, with the costs tabulated. He signs that, too.

"Honestly, I...might give him a chance myself," Adachi says. Souji looks up at him, and he has this sheepish look on his face like he knows he's not being sensible and he expects Souji to berate him for it in Dojima's stead. "We'll see. It'll depend on how he behaves while he's here."

Souji raises an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that be a lot to take on?" he says. He's pretty sure Adachi lives in an apartment, too -- not a lot of room to keep dogs. "When you have Saki already?"

Adachi winces. "I, ah, had to get rid of her," he says. "She ran off again, and this time she was in heat. We...didn't track her down in time, and, well. There's no way I could have dealt with a litter, you know?"

"I guess not," Souji says, since Adachi seems to be waiting for a response.

"It really is just easier to deal with them when they're fixed," Adachi says. "Less exciting, maybe, but less trouble, too." He takes back the bill for the surgery. "I just need to swipe a credit card for this, then, the impounding and the surgery, and then you're set to take him home."

"Right," Souji says. He hands over his credit card, waits for Adachi to swipe it, signs the resulting receipt. The expense isn't quite as bad as he'd been afraid it would be, but it's still plenty. Hopefully after this he and Yosuke won't have any exciting adventures for a while. "All done?"

Adachi nods. "All set," he says. "Let's go give your boy the good news."

He leads Souji back into the room with the cages. Yosuke's in the same cage he had the first time, and he looks up when Souji comes in. His tail starts to wag, really slowly, like he's not sure yet if he should be getting his hopes up. While Adachi fumbles for the right key, Souji glances over at the next cage, at the other dog. The one who fought with Yosuke.

"He doesn't _look_ aggressive," Souji says. Mitsuo is stockier, more broad-shouldered than Yosuke, mostly black with white on his belly and paws. Right now, he's just sitting there quietly, head on his paws, not even looking up at them.

"Yeah, he's been pretty calm since we got him here. I think he's already had his lesson in how the pack hierarchy works in the pound. And of course getting them fixed takes a lot of the aggression out of them," Adachi says. He tries a key, shakes the key ring, tries a different one. "There we go."

The door swings open, and Yosuke gets stiffly to his feet, watching Souji with nervous, hopeful eyes. "You're -- are you mad?" he says.

Souji shakes his head. "You worried me," he says, "but I'm glad to see you." He holds out his arms, and Yosuke comes out of the cage to meet him. He's moving pretty slowly, like he's still recovering, and Souji hugs him gently.

"That's what we like to see," Adachi says, smiling at them both. "A happy ending, right?"

"Right," Souji says. He reaches up with one hand to skritch behind Yosuke's ears, and Yosuke leans into him, head on his shoulder. "Time to go home," Souji says. "I bet you're about ready to get out of here."

Yosuke nods. "I don't feel good," he says, mumbling into Souji's shoulder, as if he doesn't want anyone else to be able to hear. "It hurts."

"Yeah, I'd believe it," Souji says. He looks up at Adachi. "If he's still having discomfort from the procedure, can I give him something for the pain?"

"Oh," Adachi says, "yeah, absolutely. Sorry. There's another sheet from the vet I can give you. It'll tell you what to expect and what's safe for him to have. Here, I'll grab a copy for you on the way out."

Souji clips his leash to Yosuke's collar, but doesn't really let go of Yosuke's shoulders as he steers Yosuke toward the door. Mitsuo doesn't look up to watch them go.

Adachi hunts through the papers on his desk for a minute, and Souji lets Yosuke keep leaning on him. It was probably a pretty scary experience, he figures, being in a fight and then getting dragged in here to get fixed. Yosuke will probably need a little coddling for a while. Souji thinks he can handle that.

"Here you go," Adachi says, coming up with another photocopied page. _How to Care for Your Dog after Surgery_ , this one says at the top. Adachi hands it to Souji with a smile; Souji has to let go of Yosuke for long enough to fold it up and tuck it into his back pocket. "Take care." He looks over at Yosuke. "And don't let me see you back here, okay?"

"N-no, sir," Yosuke says, and hides his face in Souji's shoulder again.

Souji pets him, slow and soothing. "It's okay," he says. "It's okay now. Let's go home." He pushes open the front door, and Yosuke follows him outside, into the last of the evening sun.


End file.
